


Push It

by uumuu



Category: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Dildos, Dominance, F/F, Gags, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Shameless Smut, Wax Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-10
Updated: 2016-09-10
Packaged: 2018-08-14 07:32:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8003866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/uumuu/pseuds/uumuu
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anairë has her way with Nerdanel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push It

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for the Dominance square in my second Season of Kink card.

“Your husband is in fact quite generous, when it comes to providing tools of this sort,” Anairë says, coming back to the bed from the fireplace with a lit candle held up in her right hand. She smiles at Nerdanel, setting one knee on the mattress to hoist herself up on it again. She is graceful in her movements, and assured, never tilting the candle, and never taking her eyes off of Nerdanel's face. 

She uses the candle to light the others fitted into a candelabrum standing on a tray to her right. The tray is quite large, but the bed is wide enough to accommodate it along with the both of them and still provide plenty of room for play. 

Nerdanel trails her eyes over the surface of the tray, but doesn't stop on the little metal devices glinting on it, on the larger toys, or on the candles themselves, but on the wax which begins to melt and drip down their length, pooling on the silver of their stands. 

Anairë notices, and grins to herself. She portends to ignore the candles. She calmly picks up a harness instead, giving Nerdanel a mischievously eloquent look as she unwinds the soft leather strings and wraps them again around her naked thighs and waist with calm and precision.

“He even gave me this,” Anairë says as she takes a dildo – a long phallus made of glass, with a large flared head and decorated by many ridges – from the tray and fits it to the metal ring supported by the harness, right over her mound. She tightens the strings, tying them in neat bows. “I believe it will do a good job of pleasuring you, once I ram it up your ass.”

The large bar in Nerdanel's mouth prevents her from saying anything, but the rapid flutter of her eyelids, the way her head lolls from side to side are a clear enough sign that she wouldn't be able to say much regardless. Anairë can very well imagine the current condition of her mind: a mushy jumble of sensation, of need and excess mingled so that it is impossible to tell the one from the other. Her body is just as helpless: her legs are spread open and bent at the knee, her wrists tied to her ankles.

Anairë comes forward between her legs. Nerdanel instinctively tenses somewhat, and Anairë is pleased: she loves to have Nerdanel under her complete control, too see her removed for a while from her shell of wisdom and self-possession. She flicks her fingers against Nerdanel's clit, which stands out from its hood, swollen and red. Anairë has sucked it and rubbed it and pinched it, making Nerdanel come again and again, leaving her overwhelmed, yet eager for more pleasure, more thrill.

Her openings have both been tended to as well, stimulated with constant stretch. A heavy wooden phallus is fitted into Nerdanel's quim, and a string of beads fills up her ass, both toys jostling inside her whenever she involuntary clenches her muscles or Anairë purposefully smacks her. 

“I think it will be quite entertaining indeed to fuck you with this,” Anairë coos, taking the dildo attached to her harness in hand and pressing its cool tip to Nerdanel's clit. Nerdanel inhales sharply and shakes in her bonds. “But first –” Anairë's voice trails off suggestively. She stretches her hand towards the tray again, the tip of the phallus still poking Nerdanel's clit, teasing her. She takes one of the candles, and brings it over Nerdanel's large breasts. She holds it upright, and stays still for a while, watching how Nerdanel's chest heaves and falls rapidly in anticipation of the imminent rush of sensation. When she finally tilts it, the movement is sudden, unforgiving.

Melted wax pours down on Nerdanel's chest in large red drops, stinging her skin with continuous bursts of hotness. Nerdanel stiffens and bites on the gag, but Anairë gives her no respite. She takes one more candle, and tilts it over her other breast. Nerdanel's nipples soon disappear under a thick layer of wax that quickly hardens on them. Nerdanel thrashes and jerks in her bonds, which only causes the wax Anairë keeps pouring on her to dribble over the swell of her breasts and down on her chest before clinging to her skin once dry. 

“Stay still,” Anairë orders. 

Nerdanel shakes her head from side to side, too overwhelmed to obey.

Anairë passes the candle she holds in her right hand to her left and scoots back to land a harsh slap between Nerdanel's legs, jerking both toys inside her at once. 

Nerdanel whines long and loud, her teeth scraping on the gag, her chest rising, but the spike of pain and pleasure between her legs forces her to focus on Anairë and remember her position. Anairë slaps her again for good measure, and she stills completely. 

“Good. Now don't make me repeat myself.”

Anairë takes one of the candles in her right hand again, and moves lower on Nerdanel's body. The left sprinkles wax right in the middle of Nerdanel's belly, whereas the right she brings over her mound. 

Nerdanel's eyes widen. They flit nervously between the candle and Anairë's face. Anairë smiles and tilts the candle again, letting wax rain right over Nerdanel's clit.

Nerdanel's scream is loud even through the gag. Her whole body shakes in an uncontrollable way, but she does her best not to buck or writhe. The sensation is all the more intense for it, for how the effort to keep still makes her concentrate solely on it. Anairë keeps pouring wax all over her quim, and it trickles between her folds and sticks to the base of the dildo. Her eyes water and sweats pearls her forehead. Her cheeks are a stark pink. Her nostril flare in her desperate attempt to assuage her overstimulated senses. 

She looks so beautiful that Anairë wants to rip the gag from her mouth and straddle her face, press her dripping quim to it and take her pleasure from her lips and tongue.

“Well, that will do...for now,” she says, keenly aware of the light tremor in her own voice.

She returns the candles to the candelabrum, though they're both quite diminished. Nerdanel still breathes shallowly, erratically, but Anairë chooses not to wait for her to calm down. She yanks the beads out of her ass, one after the other without pause, so that her rim has barely time to close around one that it has to open up again, making for continuous shudders. 

“Let's see,” she drawls, shoving her fingers up Nerdanel's gaping asshole. “You're soaking wet. Almost as wet as your hungry snatch must be.” 

She withdraws her fingers from her ass and pats the base of the toy in her quim, sending vibrations up Nerdanel's walls, before finally putting the tip of the dildo attached to her hardness to Nerdanel's ass. She holds on to Nerdanel's thighs and jams it inside with a sharp movement of her hips, burying the whole length of it up Nerdanel's supple passage in one go. Her thrusts are practiced and smooth. She loves that undulating back and forth movement, almost a dance, she loves looking down at the phallus as it disappears and reappears again, smiles at the way Nerdanel's rim clutches it. 

When she's settled into her preferred rhythm, she lets go of Nerdanel's right thigh and brings her hand up to scrape wax from her clit. Rubbing it makes Nerdanel come yet again with a muted cry. Anairë doesn't slow down her thrusts, and when she's grown tired of fucking Nerdanel's ass, she removes the dildo from her quim and fucks that too, while Nerdanel keeps shivering and moaning under her. 

It's almost morning when Anairë, thoroughly satisfied, finally cuts the rope that binds Nerdanel's legs and removes the gag from her mouth. Nerdanel slumps back on the bed, utterly drained.

“How are you feeling?”

“...sore...numb,” she mumbles, her eyes open barely a sliver, "but good."

Anairë frees her sweat-sticky hair from under her shoulders and combs it away from her face, while Nerdanel finds a better position on the pillow. Her wrists and ankles are circled by red welts, and her skin is a angry pink where the wax has been rubbed away. Anairë can't wait to peel away the rest, wash her body and massage it with a soothing lotion while Nerdanel recovers her strength. “Rest, my love,” she says softly, “I'll take care of you”, and keeps petting Nerdanel's head until she succumbs to sleep.


End file.
